


White Picket Fence

by sherlock221Bismymuse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curtain Fic, Domestic Bliss, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, True Love, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock221Bismymuse/pseuds/sherlock221Bismymuse
Summary: Dean's dream for Sam is that he should have a home with a white picket fence, a wife, 2.5 kids and grow old chugging viagra.Sam has very different dreams.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

That night, on a forgettable Wednesday in the middle of an indifferent week, in the room of a random anonymous motel, they kissed.

.

.

Dean was a little bit drunk and little bit melancholy. They had just saved a young mom and her two boys from a monster and he had been in a nostalgic mood, telling Sam stories from their childhood. Hunts, wounds, car rides.

Sam was a bit drunk and a bit wistful too. He wasn’t sure why but it was probably because Dean was so soft and so mellow. _That was reason enough_ he figured and let himself indulge in a bit of yearning. To be a little bit needy. A little bit more likely to shift closer to Dean as they sat on the sofa and watched a re-run of some horror movie that neither was paying attention to.

Dean had his right arm stretched out across the sofa behind Sam’s shoulders. But as the stories flowed and the TV was ignored, he was starting to run his fingers through Sam’s hair, twirling and patting till Sam felt almost hypnotized with it. He was hovering dangerously towards wanting to sink into this and lean on Dean’s shoulder but he had to keep reminding himself to ignore it so that Dean would not feel the need to tease him or to stop.

He had this powerful desire to just melt into Dean and never ever have to worry about anything ever again. He would be so safe and so ….so happy.

At that thought he felt compelled to turn to look at Dean and smile at something he had said and just then Dean leaned over to maybe nudge him fondly with his forehead but their faces were too close and the angle was off and Dean’s lips brushed Sam’s and they both froze.

Sam recovered faster and moved in again, just enough to press his lips gently onto Dean’s and then Dean leaned back in too, leaving no doubt at all that this could not be explained away later as ‘I slipped and fell and hit your lips with my lips.’

But then the very next instant Dean moved away sharply and scrambled up, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes hooded and heavy, giving away absolutely nothing.

“Let’s get some rest Sammy. Long drive ahead of us tomorrow.”

.

.

The next morning, Sam woke up with a mild headache. The rush of adrenaline from that kiss and the fevered pounding of his heart and the subsequent storm of thoughts had kept him awake almost all night. He had not dared look over at Dean at all so he had no idea whether he had slept or had suffered a similar turmoil.

But now as he looked around it seemed that Dean had woken up early enough to shower and go get them some breakfast which he had kept on the table. Then he had obviously gone out again.

 _So much for the morning after_ Sam thought to himself. This was Dean in Denial 101. There was no point in even trying to start the conversation.

He sighed and got himself ready and ate the breakfast kept on the table since Dean was clearly going to avoid him until they got into the car.

As expected, Dean came in half an hour later, all sunshine and smiles and told Sam to put the bags in the trunk and get his ass into the car pronto while he paid up and got the car started.

Again, as expected, Dean turned up the volume of the music to a level not- unbearable- loud but impossible- for- conversation- loud.

.

.

A week of this behaviour and Sam was almost beginning to think he had imagined the whole thing. He had hoped that the kiss would finally allow him to unlock the feelings he had kept hidden away for so long. Every night he would close his eyes and try to remember that kiss. To recreate the memory of that thrill that had invaded his entire body. The way the taste of Dean had moved swiftly like smoke through his blood. The way the entire world had stilled and all that mattered was this.

The way his heart had been threatening to leap out of his ribcage at the thought that Dean might feel the same way for him.

But now Dean was behaving as though nothing had happened.

And _that_ was really Sam’s biggest clue that something really _had_ happened that night.

He wanted to yell in frustration and punch something in his rage because he was terrified that Dean was going keep this locked away and never ever take the next step. He had no idea to move them any closer to even acknowledging what had happened, let alone what it meant for them.

.

.

That evening he was moodily looking at his laptop while Dean took a shower.

They had just completed a minor hunt and Dean was in a good cheer. He emerged in a cloud of steam, fresh from a shower, humming Metallica and ready to go hit the nearest bar.

Sam had absolutely no interest in watching Dean flirt and pick up women so he said he would stay in.

Dean promptly lost his smile when he heard that and became serious.

“Sammy, you need to go out more. Find someone. Get your normal and happily ever after.” Dean said grimly. “White picket fence. Dude…..That’s my dream for you. A wife, kids, a dog…..”

As Dean trailed off, suddenly something exploded inside Sam in a blazing white- hot fury.

Oh ok. This is how they were going to do it. If Dean was the Master of Denial then Sam could play an award- winning round of Passive Aggressive too.

“Okay…..Dean.” Sam said, slowly, nodding his head thoughtfully. “You are right. I should do that. In fact…..you know what? I like _this_ town. It has a great library and there is a college in the next town. It is practically in the middle of the country, which makes it great for getting to any other place. So maybe I will stick around and see if I can settle down here? Find a wife and get a dog. Build the white picket fence.”

Dean looked at him wide eyed and stunned. He blanched and just for a second looked like he was about to throw up.

Sam could see his fists start to clench. He held his breath, wondering if Dean would change his tune now and if he had managed to call his bluff. But he was no match for Dean Winchester who finally managed a tight nod and wore his jacket and picked up the car keys.

“That’s my boy!” He said, flashing a brilliant grin and a very enthusiastic two thumbs up at Sam as he opened the door to leave the room.

.

.

Dean came back very late that night smelling of perfume and whiskey and even cigarette smoke.

Sam had been waiting for him of course but he lay on his bed, pretending to be asleep. He heard Dean shuffle around for a few minutes and then a deep sigh as Dean settled down on his bed and was snoring within minutes.

The next morning by the time Sam woke up with a dull headache from grinding his teeth almost all night, Dean was up and packed. Sam saw Dean keep a wad of dollar bills under his laptop and before Sam was even fully awake and registered what was happening, Dean was waving at him cheerfully as he pulled away, the Impala leaving a cloud of dust behind.

Sam stood there at the door of the motel room and watched Dean disappear on the horizon and wondered if he had made the biggest mistake of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes plans for the end game.

It had been two months since they parted ways.

He had been in touch with Dean quite regularly. Text messages every other day that Dean responded to about one out of five times. A couple of quick phone calls even. Dean had still been hunting of course and the one time that Sam made the mistake of suggesting that he could join in to help Dean had scoffed at him.

“Managed without you when you left for Stanford Sammy.”

After he kept the phone away Sam sat there and wondered for the millionth time if the name of Stanford caused greater pain to him or to Dean. But he didn’t ask Dean if he should join him again.

He would wait till Dean asked him.

If he ever did.

.

.

In the first month he had thought about that kiss practically every waking moment. The way it had felt so right, as though a missing piece of him had been found. The way it had made him feel, as though he was strangely on fire and blissfully calm at the same time.

He remembered every second of that entirely too brief kiss. And he wanted more. He craved more….so much more. And he was fairly certain that Dean wanted it too.

But he knew that Dean would literally go to Hell again before he confessed to any such desires.

He knew that Dean must have gone into a spiral of self- loathing and guilt by now which was compounded by their separation. He knew that it didn’t just matter who walked away from whom, it was the separation that always wounded them more.

He also knew that if he hadn’t been hurting that day from having to once again watch Dean in denial and planning to go and flirt and pick up some woman at the bar, he would have stayed on in that halfway state just as long as he could have Dean near him.

But now? He had made his move and there was no way of knowing how this would really end.

.

.

Towards the end of that first month there was one day when he woke up to pain that was almost physical. He had dreamt that Dean was in bed with him and he could smell him and taste him and feel him ……….and then to wake up to a large emptiness on the other side had made him reel.

Barely aware of what he was doing he got ready and wore his boots and picked up the key to his newly acquired second hand car and decided to just forget the long game and just GO TO Dean.

He needed to see him. Hug him. Be near him. Forget anything more than just being brothers. He wasn’t going to win this. He would do anything to make sure that Dean didn’t want to keep half the country between them at all times the way he was doing now.

Just the thought of being able to go and meet Dean maybe in a day or two made him feel so relieved, he stood at the front door and closed his eyes to savour that feeling.

But a minute later he took a deep breath and shook his head.

No. He could not let this go again. He had endured being tortured by the Devil. He could withstand separation from Dean for a few more weeks.

He needed to think like a Hunter, not like a lovelorn hero. He needed to do his research and prepare for the hunt, place the bait and just wait patiently.

This was endgame.

.

.

Bobby had called Sam a week into his solitary existence to check if he was possessed. Or if Dean was.

Sam had laughed and reassured him that they were both very much human. He had explained what Dean wanted him to do, with the white picket fence and wife and all and therefore what he was doing. There was such a long silence on the line he thought he lost Bobby.

“Bobby?” He asked.

“Idjits.” Bobby said in extreme exasperation finally and eventually agreed to come over some day to visit. “Visit both o’ya.” He said gruffly and Sam had laughed.

Later as he thought about that conversation he wondered if Bobby had ever suspected anything. Bobby was smart and he knew them perhaps better than anyone else did.

Maybe he would even be ok with it. Maybe there would be others who would not be ok with it. And he didn’t blame them for it. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care who knew or what they thought about it.

He knew what he wanted and he wanted it so bad …..and he knew that if he got it…no, when he got it…..that would be it. The rest of the world could do what it wanted.

.

.

Sam had already made a detailed plan. He didn’t even need to research really. He had been living his whole life watching and learning and figuring out what made Dean Winchester tick. He could do this.

He spent a day in figuring out better fake IDs and documents and by the end of the next day Sam Wesson was ready to make a new life in this quiet town and find his happily ever after.

Then he looked around that small town and by the end of the second day he had found it what he needed. A small house with a small porch, two bedrooms, a garden.

With a picket fence.

He had moved in two months ago with all his worldly belongings-- the lightest duffle bag on his shoulder and a heavy heart achingly full of love for his Dean.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam knows what makes a house a home.

It had been two months that he had lived in this house now. He did not consider it a home though. Not yet.

In the first few weeks he had woken up in sheer panic a few times, sweating and breathless and wondering how he could have been so foolish as to let Dean walk away……..and whether Dean would ever really come back to him.

But he was so _done_ leaving Dean and he was going to make sure that Dean was never going to leave him again either.

When he started with the repairs on the house, he knew what he had to do first.

He took a can of white paint and went to the picket fence.

_Yup. Besotted and madly in love with him but he was still Dean’s little brother and he was entitled to petty shit like this_ he thought with a grin.

.

.

His plans had to be made with much longer time frames in mind. Beyond just a few days for ganking a ghost or a couple of weeks for a vampire nest. No. This needed to be done thoroughly and well. He needed to build foundations that could last a long time. Hopefully.

So he enrolled in night school at the local community college to get the credits he needed to apply for a job there later. He also got a part time job as a library assistant because he didn’t really need to study for the night course towards his degree in Folklore and Classics.

The other part time job he wanted was at the local bakery.

He was going to tick every possible box in his ‘courting Dean’ checklist. Being able to bake a pie at home was one of them.

.

.

Between all these occupations he found the time to clean up and repair and furnish the small house he had bought ( once he was done painting the picket fence of course). The house was in the outer quieter areas of the small town. It was idyllic as well as ideal. Far away to avoid having nosy neighbours but close enough for a quick drive into downtown for supplies and work.

He put up curtains and bought kitchen utensils. He decided to play safe and get double beds for both the bedrooms. He bought matching curtains and bedspreads for each bedroom because he just knew that Dean would secretly enjoy that level of domesticity it even if it meant he would probably call him Samantha and tease him about it forever.

Last week he bought a painting from a local artist during one of the art fairs at the library. It was a serene landscape with a lake and flowers and a mountain range in the backdrop. Something about being able to put up a painting of his choice made him feel as though he was a step closer to making this a home.

As he put it up in the living room he wondered if Dean would like it too.

He could see them sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, cuddled up, looking at the painting. Drinking beer. Smiling. Kissing. Holding each other. Talking about random things. About everything and nothing. And then when they ran out of words…there would be other things to do together.

He sighed.

Every single corner of the house was filled with his daydreams. If every one of them came to life there would be a dozen Deans in the place. Sitting or lounging on the sofa, looking relaxed and happy. Standing at the porch waiting for him to come home, a small smile on his face. Leaning against the fridge and chatting to give Sam company as he cooked. Or wearing an apron and cooking as Sam sat there watching him. Sleeping in the bed. Waking up. Showering. Eating. Watching TV.

Dean was everywhere.

His heart had ached every single night going to sleep in a room which didn’t have Dean in it. Dean with his bright moods and cleaning guns and teasing and bickering and just…… _god_ ……just being _Dean_.

His sun, moon and stars.

His heart had ached as much every single morning too, when he woke up and remembered that Dean was not with him. No one to share the waking hours with, no one being grumpy and growly till he got his coffee. No one to grumble about the shower with. No one to argue over food orders at the diner and flirt with every waitress ….yeah, no, that was one thing he did not miss.

He was done with watching Dean flirt with the entire world and sleep with half of them. He was going to stake his claim and then he was going to guard it like the most precious treasure it was.

So he reminded himself every morning that all this was worth it. It was. That good things come to those who wait. That he was sure Dean was missing him exactly as much if not more and that there was no other way he could get Dean to accept what he really felt.

.

.

Meanwhile the days merged into weeks and months and before he knew it the Big Day had arrived.

He had a bounce in his step and a smile on his lips and he was humming as he worked around the house. He wanted it to be perfect today.

He had swept and cleaned and stocked up on beer and a freshly baked apple pie was ready and keeping warm in the oven.

Today, after weeks of frustrating coordination and annoying negotiations, Dean was finally going to come around and visit him in his new house.

And Sam was going to make sure he never left again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's house is becoming a home.

After three false alarms when Sam had rushed to the door because he thought he heard the Impala, Dean finally arrived when the shadows had started lengthening.

Sam watched him step out of the car and it took every single ounce of willpower to not rush to him and just hold him and breathe in his smell and feel his strong back muscles flexing under his arms and just kiss him stupid.

It made heat coil inside him and made his heart beat double quick.

_God……the things it did to him to just watch Dean come towards him with that slight swagger and the cocky grin._

_His beautiful beautiful glorious Dean._

_._

They had an awkward moment at the door when Dean looked like he was going to hug Sam but Sam was so keyed up and wanted to avoid doing anything that would spook Dean that he tried to extend his hand for a handshake instead.

After a fraught second he decided he could not give up this chance to hold Dean and just grabbed him in a bear hug. He wanted to hold him forever and never let go and Dean seemed to return the desire, even if for a second but then he was squirming out of his arms.

“Heya Sammy!” he said and clapped him on the shoulders. “You look good!”

Sam grinned and was about to return the compliment automatically when he noticed that no, on a closer look, Dean did not actually ‘look good’. He looked paler that usual and rather exhausted and also a little thinner. So he led him to the sofa and gave him a chilled bottle of beer.

He watched Dean drink the beer and he drank in the perfect, absolutely _heavenly_ sight of Dean in the house, sitting on the sofa. Here. Right here. In front of his eyes.

But he worried for him. “Dean you look exhausted! Bad hunt?”

Dean waved the bottle at him as if to say _forget it_ but Sam pursed his lips and frowned. “Are you hurt Dean?”

“Quit nagging Sammy. Am fine.” Dean frowned back. “You know how it is on the road. Glad you stayed here. This life seems to be suiting you. You look good…..really good.” Dean said with a slow fond smile that almost took Sam’s breath away.

_With a stab of pain he was acutely aware of how much he had missed this face. This man._

_This love and affection. Given so freely and so generously._

“I am sorry.” Sam said softly, as all his guilt at leaving Dean alone came crashing in on him in tidal waves. “I should never have stayed back. I should have been with you. Hunting. I am sorry.”

“Oh quit moaning Sammy.” Dean gave a tight smile. “Managed alone during your Stanford days remember.”

Both fell silent at that, the word Stanford being kryptonite for any further conversation.

Fortunately, the oven dinged just then and Sam went in to check on it. A few seconds later Dean followed him in, as though he couldn’t bear to let Sam out of his sight even for a second now. He stood there leaning against the fridge, bottle of beer in his hand, watching Sam smile back and not knowing how many day dreams Sam was seeing come to life in this simple gesture.

Dean was, as always, hiding his fear and pain behind loud talk and winks and smiles and jokes and Sam wanted desperately to just _stop_ this whole pretence and just grab him and kiss him stupid and manhandle him to the bedroom and tear his clothes off.

But this was an intricate dance. And it had steps, complicated steps, that he was kind-of making up as he went along.

.

.

As soon as his beer was done Dean had gone to stand at the front door. Sam could see his eyes taking in the picket fence and the herbal hedgerow. Dean may not be as familiar with the herbs as he was but he was sure he recognized the yarrow, comfrey, calendula.

Sam smiled inwardly at the marjoram he was growing in a pot hidden in a corner. There would be time to use it sometime soon.

He saw Dean nodding with approval at the sigils carved into the porch floor.

Before Dean could say anything Sam informed him that he had put in salt lines in hollow pipes all around the house perimeter and added rock salt to the paint for the fence. The door had an iron frame under the wood panel and the ceiling of every room had a Devil’s Trap in UV paint.

Dean gave him a wide proud smile and a pat on the back. “That’s my boy!”

Sam could see that half the tension had gone out of Dean’s frame after knowing that Sam was as safe as was possible and then the conversation turned to random things.

Dinner was even easier because Dean was delighted with the food and when Sam brought out the pie Dean actually shook his head and laughed.

“Oh Sammy! I might never leave if you feed me like this!”

Sam’s heart almost stopped on hearing that but Dean was too mesmerized by the pie to realize what he had said. He just took a huge helping and then ate it with so much moaning and lip smacking that Sam finally asked him with mock annoyance “Do you and the pie need to get a room?”

“Nah.” Dean said, finishing the last piece on his plate. “But me and the one who made this pie?” He winked at Sam. “That might be something.”

Sam took a deep breath. _Should he confess?_

But he knew that that conversation could go in directions that would definitely spook Dean and the last thing he wanted was Dean taking off right away. So he just rolled his eyes instead and ignored that comment.

“You must be tired Dean. Go, shower and get a good night’s rest. I will do the dishes.”

.

.

Later at night once the dinner was cleared away and the dishes were done, Sam padded softly to the bedroom he had offered to Dean.

The door was partially open. He looked in and could barely contain himself at the sight of Dean sleeping peacefully, sprawled over the bed. He wanted nothing more than to slip under that cover and hold Dean close, to smell him and feel his warmth and touch his skin……..but for now he needed to be patient.

Dean had been looking really tired and he needed to let him rest and relax.

He had time on his side.

After all he was playing for keeps.

.

The next few days went by in the blink of an eye.

For all Dean’s protests and denial, he had truly had a rough time of it in the last few weeks and eventually, reluctantly, he had submitted to Sam’s domesticity and rested in comfort and safety.

Sam was convinced that heaven could not offer anything better than this.

Watching Dean eat his home cooked meals heartily, see him relax on the sofa and fall asleep with the TV remote on his chest, knowing that he would wake up rested and stress free because he knew he was in a safe place.

This was a Tuesday he would not mind waking up to for eternity.

.

.

Four days later Dean patted his stomach after a very large breakfast and ruefully shook his head.

“Sammy ….this is amazing food and you were right….I did need some rest and downtime. I don’t like to accept it usually…… and especially with you….it just seems all wrong you know? I mean, I need to look after you, not the other way around.”

Sam was almost stunned speechless. _To hear Dean accept this and so frankly? Wow. This whole business of the way to a man’s heart being through food was probably truer than he had imagined!_

He smiled at Dean. “Hey you make it sound like I am running a senior citizens’ residence. You’ve had your holiday, now I am going to put you to work dude! There ain’t no such thing as a free meal!”

.

.

So Dean had cheerfully worn the workman’s belt Sammy offered and had worked on his car, helped with some final repairs on the kitchen and roof, sawing and hammering to his heart’s content.

Fixing things, solving problems. The family business.

That evening they sat on the lounge chairs in the garden, looking in at the house, roof shingles repaired, windows gleaming in the setting sun, cold beer in their hands.

Dean raised his bottle in a toast.

“What are we drinking to?” Sam asked

“Your home.” Dean replied. “Home sweet home!”

_Yes_ Sam thought to himself. _It was closer to being a home now that Dean was here_.

He asked Dean. “So you like it?”

“It’s awesome Sammy. Whenever I am on a hunt near this town I won’t need to search for a motel……If that’s ok with you? I mean, your wife….” Dean trailed off with a frown.

Sam shrugged casually. “Yeah, we’ll cross that bridge when it comes. I was hoping you would stay with me for a while. Wait till I find a wife. It’s not that easy to find one you know.”

Dean winced in mock pain. “Oh Sammy, Sammy! All these years and you haven’t learnt anything from me?! In fact you know what….me being here won’t help at all dude!! Who will look at you when my handsomeness is competing?” He elbowed Sam and laughed.

“Jerk.” Sam muttered.

“Bitch.” Dean said with a full happy grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Calendula (Calendula officinalis): Magically, it is used for happiness, prosperity, love, psychic powers, and harmony.
> 
> Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) Also known as boneset or knitbone, comfrey is renowned as a healing herb. Magically, it is associated with health, healing, protection during travel, and prosperity.
> 
> Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris) A decoction of the leaves is said to help open your mind before you try divination. As a magical herb it is associated with prophetic dreams and divination, relaxation and tranquility, protection, banishing, and consecration.
> 
> Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) The leaves and stem of yarrow, harvested in late summer, have traditionally been used as a poultice to staunch blood. Magically, it is used for courage, healing, and love.
> 
> https://www.consciouslifestylemag.com/magical-herbs-and-plants/
> 
> 2\. Marjoram (Origanum majorana)  
> Also known as winter sweet, marjoram is similar to oregano, but sweeter and milder. Marjoram was used by the ancient Greeks to crown newly married couples. This magical herb is for protection, happiness, love, and joy, particularly in family environments.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam knows there is more than one way to be family again.

Dean woke up the next morning in a happy mood. He ambled into the kitchen, helped himself to some coffee and asked Sam “So what is the plan today?”

Once again Sam wanted to freeze this moment in his memory. All that chat last evening about finding him a wife seems to have helped Dean take his guard down. It had been five days already and instead of wanting to escape, Dean was actually asking for the day’s plan.

So Sam decided to take him to the town centre and meet his new friends. They spent the day going to the library, the bakery, Sam’s usual stores, a diner.

Everywhere they went of course Dean flirted with the young and old women and charmed the men and the children.

Sam never thought he would be delighted to watch Dean flirt but he had genuinely missed this. Watching Dean in his element, conquering hearts with such ease, casual but managing to make real connections all the same.

Sam suddenly had an epiphany that this was how Dean had survived. He really didn’t know how to make friends any other way because they had never stayed anywhere long enough to have the chance for any relationships to build. But Dean knew how to make do. For all his bravado and capacity for denial and pain, he had a soft heart that hungered for intimacy. But the price to pay was vulnerability and that could never be allowed. So he took his pleasures where he could.

His appetite for comfort, food, sex was all part of the package.

Now finally Sam understood that and he also spared a moment to curse John Winchester once again for having done this to Dean, a foot soldier forced into this desperate war.

Sam was prevented from spiraling into that dark rabbit hole when his phone rang just then. 

“Hey Bobby!” He replied, stepping out to talk where Dean wouldn’t hear him. “Yes, yes, I left a message for you yesterday. Um…just please don’t call Dean away for any hunt for another few weeks if you can. I…I need him to be here Bobby. He needs to be here.”

He smiled at Bobby’s response. “Yes, I think you will be invited to a house warming dinner soon enough!”

.

.

That night, well- fed and satisfied, they had sat down to watch Die Hard for the millionth time.

Dean had sprawled all over the sofa in his casual glory and all Sam wanted to do was curl into him right there and hold him close and breathe him in and just forget the movie.

Just forget that the whole world existed outside the two of them.

But it was not time for that yet. It would be. Soon he hoped. But they were not there yet.

As he poured them some whiskey into proper glasses for a change, as befitted a householder, Dean’s expression wavered on mocking Sam for them but then morphed into something fonder, mellower and he smiled at Sam and raised a silent toast.

By the time the movie was over, so was the bottle and they just sat there, relaxed and comfortable in the silence.

Sam looked at Dean and wanted to stop time. This is what he wanted to have in front of his eyes forever.

Dean. Adorably rumpled. Safe. Well fed. Well rested. With him.

Sam said with a smile. “Remember the first time we saw this movie? You had said you wanted to grow up and be like him. A real hero.”

“Yeah….huh…..look how well that turned out.” Dean grunted and started to sit up reluctantly, rubbing his hair sleepily.

Sam didn’t want Dean to get up and leave for the bedroom. So he asked him, as casual as you please. “Hey Dean, but what did you _really_ want to be when you grew up? Before you knew that Dad was a Hunter?”

“Firefighter.” Dean said promptly. “Or a cop maybe.” He shrugged. “Could have been a doctor? I don’t know…… The hunting thing is just a way to saving people really, isn’t it…... So…y…eah.”

Then he looked at Sam and pointed at him with a slightly drunken smile. “And _you_ would have been a hotshot lawyer.”

Sam wasn’t sure what to say to that without this conversation going to Stanford and spoiling the mood so he just gave a small smile and a shrug.

But Dean spoke up again, looking at the floor. “Sorry Sammy. I am so sorry.”

“For what?” Sam asked him, baffled, wondering what he missed.

“For dragging you back into this mess. You wanted out……and I should have let you be. But dad was missing and something felt wrong to me. Like something big was going down. I just couldn’t do it alone. I needed to have you in front of my eyes you know…….just in case dad……and I needed to know that you were safe.”

Sam listened to what Dean was saying and after all these years he was suddenly struck by something. 

“Dean….” he asked slowly. “If you hadn’t come back that night I might have died in the fire….Why did you come back?”

Dean was quiet for a beat. Then he made as if to get up. “It’s getting late Sammy, let’s sleep.”

Sam was faster than him and came and stood in front of him.

“No, no no Dean, you have to tell me. I want to know!”

Dean rubbed his face in distress, looking everywhere but at Sam.

"Dean?! I have to know!” Sam urged again, somehow sure that this was a very very important thing to know. “Please?”

Dean took a deep breath, still looking away.

“I was coming back to ask you if……if it would be ok for me to find a place to stay near you. Kind of like a base. I would still go on hunts of course but you know….I would see you once in a while. After you and Jess were married and had kids I would be around for them. Their cool uncle Dean. You know……be a part of the family.” Dean stopped and stared at the floor.

Sam was stunned beyond speechless. Never in his wildest imagination had he thought that this would be what Dean would say!

Dean was still talking softly, mostly to himself now. “I would teach them how to read like I taught you. How to tie shoelaces. How to get candy from a vending machine. How to aim at a target….….” Then Dean shook his head in a slow exaggerated way. “No. Not that. They need to stay away from this life……. not like my baby boy. Sweetest baby you have ever seen.” Dean was smiling, looking right at Sam now. “So clever, so well behaved. SO smart. No Sammy. No. Your kids will have a normal life. I should not come and meet them. It will just bring all that mess and chaos into their lives. Maybe you can just send me photos you know. Will you do that Sammy?”

Sam was just standing there with tears flowing freely down his face. Endless tears.

_What had he ever done to deserve the love of this man? The man who managed to stay innocent and pure in his love despite all the tortures of hell. The brother he had abandoned to live his dream without thinking even once what his dreams might have been._

_Dean had come back for him because he wanted to be family again?!!_

Dean attempted to stand up but sat down again, a bit wobbly. “Sorry Sammy. Sorry for everything. For Jess…….. for getting you back into this life. For not being able to let you go. For not letting you live your dream. I know you hate me for it. Hell, I hate myself for it. I should leave you, you know. I really should. I will be gone tomorrow morning. Don’t worry.” He managed a strangled laugh. “And anyway, how will you ever find your dream wife if your handsome brother is around all the time?”

Sam knelt down in front of Dean, tears still flowing freely.

Dean looked up at him, part surprise, part hope, part fear. “I am sorry.” He said again.

“You idiot!” San said fondly, wiping his tears and giving a choked sob. “This right here is my dream. With you. Forever. I don’t hate you Dean. I never hated you. I love you. Always have. Now it is up to you to choose if we make this our base and still hunt. Or we give up hunting and settle down. Adopt 2.5 kids. Be a family. Or we ride into the sunset. But together. It was always going to be us Dean. Together. You and me. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part.”

Dean blinked. “Did you just propose to me dude?”

“Umm yeah? Maybe?” Sam said with a grin. “And that totally makes you the wife by the way. And I will now kiss the bride.” He leaned in and kissed Dean.

As he pulled away Dean was still staring at him in shock. “ Sammy….!”

Sam stood up and pulled Dean up. “Hey, Dean? Listen, don’t panic. Let’s talk tomorrow ok? I know it’s a lot to take in and it’s been a long day. Ok? Dean?”

Dean got up in a daze and nodded and walked to his bedroom.

Sam waited till he heard the sounds of Dean going to bed and then he waited for another hour.

He knew what he needed to do next.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can run but you can't hide

Sam watched from the dark interior of the Impala as Dean closed the front door softly behind him.

It was 3 am and Sam was sure that Dean had peeped into his bedroom and said a silent goodbye to him. Maybe he had even left some scrawled farewell note on the dining table.

_Yeah well Sam was two steps ahead of him this time._

He waited till Dean reached the car and opened the driver’s side door and then he sat up in the back seat and said. “Hi Dean. Going somewhere?”

It would have been funny to see Dean’s shocked expression if it wasn’t so terrifying and frustrating that Dean was planning to leave him like this.

_After all that emotion and the declaration of love on his part, Dean was planning to just sneak out into the dark and leave him behind?_

So he looked at Dean and Dean looked back at him, stunned. He didn’t even try to lie his way out of it.

“Sorry Sammy.” He said. “This won’t work. You deserve better. Please. Go home.”

“I am.” Sam said patiently. “You are my home. Don’t you know that by now? You are my beginning and my end and my sun moon and stars and my happily ever after.”

Dean shook his head sadly and looked away. “Don’t Sammy….just….don’t.”

Sam spoke again. “Dean…..you are my one true love and my soulmate and my forever and my eternity.”

Dean just looked at him in despair and longing and shook his head.

“Please Dean. Say something.” Sam asked him.

“Sammy….I am not good with words….”

Sam smiled. “I will make it simple. This is it for me. I am yours Dean. Just tell me if you are mine.”

Dean nodded, struggling to speak. Then he finally said. “Always have been.”

“Then come back in.” Sam said, stepping out of the car. “Make this your home. We will take it as slow as you want and we will figure it out. You and me. We always do.”

He took Dean’s hand and Dean watched as Sam intertwined their fingers.

He looked at Sam again. “Sammy…are you sure?”

“I have never been more sure of anything.” Sam said with a happy smile. “You and me. Together. Forever……….But can we go inside now please??! It’s cold and I am sleepy!”

“Stop being such a bitch.” Dean said with a smile. “And don’t get any ideas. I am coming back in only for the pies really.”

“Oh yeah about that….” Sam said grinning as he held hands with Dean and they went in the front door. “I am the one who has been baking them, just so you know……..”

Dean stood there thunderstruck. “What?”

“Yeah.” Sam dimpled at him. “Part of my plan to woo you.”

And then before Dean could react, Sam picked him up and crossed the threshold with him, almost dropping him inside and then doubling over with laughter at Dean’s outraged face.

Dean looked at him with wonder and awe.

_Would this work ? Could they really have this? A happily ever after?_

Sam shook his head. “And I am warning you----you better not pull any more stunts like this or I am going to have to tie you to the bed.”

“Oh is that how it is going to be Master?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“Yes.” Sam said firmly. “And from now you are totally going to be the wife. Frilly apron and all, just the way you wanted for me. Waiting for me barefoot in the kitchen as I come back from work, beer in hand and dinner ready in the oven.”

“No way bitch!” Dean said, still dazed but definitely not going to take lip from his bratty brother. 

“Yes way jerk.” Sam said, grinning madly, almost giddy with joy.

Then he took a deep breath, held the fragile moment in that space as it throbbed and flowered and became real.

Slowly he came close to Dean and put his arms around his waist. He looked into his eyes and said. “Welcome home.”

And this time when Dean kissed him back, Sam knew it was for keeps.

.

.

Bobby came over two weeks later with a carton full of books and some anti-possession charms and some bags of goofer dust as a housewarming present.

He saw the nameplate saying ‘Winchesters’ at the gate and he watched Dean wearing the ‘kiss the cook’ apron as he worked in the kitchen.

He pretended not to really notice Sam almost glowing with joy and Dean looking happier than he could remember him being. He behaved as though he was too distracted to observe the two of them at ease with each other in a way that spoke of more intimacy than ever before. He had to try very hard to not smile at the adoring looks they were giving each other when they thought he wasn’t looking and the way they were generally being as subtle as a hammer about their new relationship.

That night as he slept in their guest bedroom Dean stood there awkwardly trying to tell him how he always used that bedroom but while Bobby was here he would sleep on the sofa and would have babbled on if Sam hadn’t finally pulled him away, leaving Bobby rolling his eyes.

Bobby also pretended not to hear Sam padding out to the hall later at night and taking Dean back in with him and he ignored the whispers and soft sounds from the other bedroom and prayed to everything holy that they would just go the hell to sleep and not subject him to more than he needed to hear at his age.

As he tried to fall asleep Bobby wondered if this was really a surprise at all. These two had been wrapped up in each other from the day Sam was born. He had never seen such devotion and such purity of love, such fierce passion for each other’s wellbeing and such capacity to sacrifice everything for the happiness of the other.

If he still believed that heaven was capable of any good, he would say this was a match made in heaven. These two idjits would tell him in their own time but they had his blessings anyway.

Life was short and love was a gift.

He fell asleep with the thought that not only was he totally ok with it for them, if anyone wasn’t-- _well they could talk to the barrel of his gun!!_

_._

_._

When he left the next day with a box full of leftovers and a specially baked pie, he waved to them from his car and watched as Dean leaned on the white picket fence to say goodbye and Sam instinctively slipped his arm around Dean’s waist, sweetly possessive, both of them radiating joy.

Bobby smiled to himself as he drove off.

His boys were finally home.


End file.
